May atmore 2020

Sherry
Digmon
“How many?” Even years later, former Mayor Howard
Shell would tear up as he recalled that question on the
morning of September 17, 2004. That morning, Mayor
Shell called Bob Gowing who was administrator at
Atmore Community Hospital at the time.
Ivan had destroyed so much of Atmore the night
before, Mayor Shell couldn’t imagine lives were not lost.
So he called Bob the next morning and asked simply,
“How many?” And Bob replied not one life was lost in
the storm.
I’ve thought about that question and answer often
over the past month. How many? As I write this portion
of my column (April 23), thousands of lives have been
lost across the country to COVID-19. While Atmore
Community Hospital has had several cases, we’ve not
lost anyone.
How many? So far, none. We pray it remains so.
~~~
Since I wrote the column in this space last month, so
much has happened ... or not happened. We’ve stayed
at home for the most part. We’re socially distanced from
each other. We’ve worn masks while shopping. Much of
that is true, but not all. Not everyone has followed the
guidelines to keep us free from the spread of the
coronavirus. It’s a matter of choice, I guess. I choose to
keep myself and others around me as safe as possible.
~~~
Our lives have been impacted by the threat of the
virus, but personally there are two aspects of this that
are the most disheartening for me and I think for most
of us.
People in hospitals are dying alone. I cannot imagine
not being with someone I love when they pass away.
Likewise I cannot imagine what it’s like for them.
Another is the policy concerning funerals. No visitation.
No funeral services. Families are having graveside
services with no more than 10 people in attendance, as
required. Some are planning to have memorial services
at a later date.
We’ve all lost friends during this time, some have lost
family members. How sad we can’t go and say goodbye
to people we’ve cared for over the years. How sad
we can’t offer a hug or a handshake to a family member.
Grieving from afar is not our way.
~~~
When it was announced in early April that school
would not resume in the classroom this year, I’m sure
some students - and maybe some teachers - were
pretty happy about that. The physical classroom became
an online classroom.
From the Publisher
3
But I did realize one thing during this. For the most
part, teachers really miss and love their kids. Across
the country, teachers have had parades and Facebook
postings encouraging their students and letting them
know how much they miss them.
Tiffany Hobbs, a teacher at Escambia County Middle
School, graciously allowed us to print a poem she wrote
to her students. It’s in this issue.
~~~
I’ve known for a long time that Dave Landis is a good
writer. He’s written a couple of pieces that define this
time in our lives. We’re printing them in this issue, with
his permission, of course.
~~~
Some funny things have come out of our state of affairs.
In some kids’ world, quarantine is cornteen. Now, I don’t
know if that has really been said in someone’s household,
but I’ve seen it online in several places, so it must be true.
And that’s a funny too.
~~~
It would be impossible to document everything that has
happened in connection with the coronavirus, but so
many people have found so many ways to help others.
In this issue, we’ve selected some pictures that, we
hope, will convey the concern people have for others -
especially for kids and first responders.
~~~
April 28
At the beginning of this column, we had no COVID-19
deaths. We have one in the county now, but we don’t
know if it’s in Atmore or elsewhere.
The governor loosened some of the stay at home
guidelines this morning, but our new normal still includes
social distancing, face masks, and lots of hand washing.
Churches may not have in-person services yet. How
odd Saturdays and Sunday mornings have become.
People speculate about how long this new normal will
last. There’s no way to know, I don’t guess.
For now, we hold to Joshua 1:9 - Have I not
commanded you? Be strong and of good courage;
do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your
God is with you wherever you go.”
Y’all stay safe. Stay distant. Wash your hands.
And trust in God.
© 2002 Grace Publishing LLC
Grace Publishing LLC reserves the right to refuse
any advertising deemed unsuitable for this publication.
atmore is published monthly by Grace Publishing LLC
128 South Main Street Atmore AL 36502
Periodical postage rate paid at Atmore, AL 36502
under Act of Congress May 3, 1879
128 South Main Street Atmore, AL 36502
Phone (251) 368-6397 Fax (251) 368-3397
Sherry Digmon, Co-Owner
Publisher
sherry@atmorenews.com
Myrna Monroe, Co-Owner
Business Manager
myrna@atmorenews.com
Ditto Gorme, Graphics
ditto@atmorenews.com
Nancy Karrick, Contributor
Karen Langford Brown, Contributor

The Staff Report
Mayor
Jim
Staff
So much has happened since we last wrote a column
for the magazine that I hardly know where to start. I hope
and pray that the readership of “atmore” magazine is
safe and sound.
I am deeply humbled to be a part of Atmore. The way
our community has reached out and helped each other
in this confusing and dangerous time has made me
proud to be a part of Atmore. I will preface my article by
saying that I could not possibly name all of the people
and organizations who have lent a helping hand. I hope
that if any effort or deed is omitted, you will forgive me.
Atmore is resilient! Just as we rallied in the aftermath
of major storms during the 90s, we will rally in spite of
this pandemic. I am confident that by the publication of
this issue of "atmore” magazine," businesses will be
opened, and we will be making our way back to normal.
First, on behalf of the City of Atmore, I would like to
express my deep gratitude to Poarch Band of Creek
Indians for their generous donation to the Atmore
Community Hospital. Not only did this help support the
hospital's efforts in addressing the COVID-19 crisis, but
made the purchase of badly needed equipment and
additional hospital beds possible. At a time when rural
hospitals are struggling, PCI's donation was a godsend.
I was contacted by David Landa, President of Alto
Products, offering their help and letting me know that
Alto had begun production of N95 Mask shields that
are used by hospitals and first responders to help
prolong the life of the N95 Mask. They have already
donated several thousand to local hospitals in Atmore
and Pensacola. David told me they are now trying to
find other hospitals and first responders across the
country who need these N95 shields. Alto has the
capacity to make 1,000 mask shields per day. My
deepest gratitude to the management and employees
of Alto Products.
During a time when our small businesses are
struggling to survive, a group of them came up with
an innovative plan to keep themselves going, and at
the same time give back to the community during the
COVID-19 guidelines which have had negative impact
Take Your Relationship With God To New Heights
EAGLE SAINTS CLASS
LIFE APPLICATION OF BIBLICAL PRINCIPLES
First Assembly of God Church
1120 South Main Street Atmore
Sunday 10 a.m. to 11 a.m.
Southend Sanctuary
Everyone is welcome
Sara Davis - Instructor
But they that wait upon the Lord shall
renew their strength; they shall mount
up with wings as eagles; they shall run,
and not be weary; and they shall walk,
and not faint. Isaiah 40:31 KJV
4

on retail businesses. The plan was hatched among
some friends and fellow shop owners who came up
with The Waffle Project. Participating businesses sold
raffle tickets to promote sales to support their
businesses.
They also designated a portion of the proceeds be
donated to individuals who were providing free lunches
for children. Their goal was helping the community while
trying to survive until the retail community can get back
on its feet! Raffle winners received shopping sprees at
participating businesses. I admire these young business
owners. They have demonstrated vision, tenacity and
generosity! I'm sure some of you are wondering why
this was called the "Waffle Project." They wanted to
use a well-known social media outlet to get the word
out, and that well-known social media outlet does not
allow posts containing the word "raffle," hence the
"Waffle Project."
Atmore is doing great things to make sure no one is
hungry. Some children receive the only meals they get
through free school lunch and breakfast programs.
With the unexpected closure of schools, some of our
churches stepped up to provide free lunches for
children and adults.
We also have Ernie Digmon, an Atmore native, who
organized a free lunch program with help from other
folks in the community. Through using their own
resources and donations, they are providing meals to
feed children.
Personnel with Atmore Area Christian Care Ministry
(our local food bank) says donations are excellent.
Thanks to Shelia and James Helton and their wonderful
volunteers, who provide this service. Shelia tells me that
the outpouring of generosity demonstrated by the
community has helped them feed those who cannot
afford food. The walk-in freezer pictured below has been
a great help. Grant funds received through the Alabama
Extension System at Auburn University's ALProHealth
Program enabled Christian Care to purchase it! Even
though he is not around, all of this was the dream of Joe
“Cowboy” Hall. Take a minute to remember him.
The
AACCM
freezer
Continued
on page 28
5

Southern Gardening
Ed
Brown
Master
Gardener
May is here! Time is flying. While our nation is under
a stay-in-place or keep-your-distance order, we can use
this time to improve and enjoy our gardens. We can
enlarge our beds, add to our landscape and do the
things that we have not had the time to do.
Yes, I know the cost of plants has really increased in
price, but have you thought about growing your own
plants? You know seeds are costly also but still cheaper
than bedding plants. Rooting cuttings are nearly free so
let’s try it.
I remember as a child watching my mother take
cuttings or she would mark plants in the woods to
return at the correct time to take cuttings or to dig up
the plant and take it home to plant. I remember late
winter or early spring while riding on the back roads
going to see our kinfolks, we would look for Grancy
Greybeards, redbud trees, and Honeysuckle Azaleas.
We would dig them up. I still look for them but really
just to see them bloom in the woods. Just to see their
beauty.
What I am saying is, years ago people did not buy
their plants. They grew their own. They exchanged
cuttings with friends and neighbors. And over the years
we lost that thought or ability. It has been too easy to
buy the small plants and we lost the joy of preparing
and watching plants we rooted grow.
I know I stopped, but why not start again? Joyce and
I started this winter. Yes, winter, we took some cuttings
of plants at her sister's house during the first freeze of
November 2019. I really did not think they would do anything,
but what the heck, what was it going to hurt?! We
put them in a glass of water inside on a window sill in the
house and guess what? They formed roots! Late March
I put them in pots of potting soil on the back porch and
they are growing and doing well!
I said this to show how easy rooting in water is. Most
of us older people can think back as a child how our
mothers would have plants rooting in glasses of water
nearly year around. Remember?
This month we will look at rooting with water and also
in potting soil. There are several methods of rooting
cuttings but the easiest is the glass of water. The cutting
should have at least one or two nodes with the leaves
removed. This node is where the roots will form. Place
the nodes below the water line and leave two or three
leaves on the plant above the water line. Place in a
bright indirect lit area. A window with morning sun is OK
but not necessary.
If the water starts looking dirty, replace it but make
sure you keep the glass filled. Do not let it dry up.
Roots should start forming in 2-4 weeks. When a
good rooting system forms, put it in a pot of potting soil
and let it grow in the shade for a few days. Gradually
move it into the sunshine, allowing it to harden off before
planting in the garden.
Cuttings rooted in soil are just as easy but you have
to remember to keep it moist and damp. Do not let it dry
out.
Best time is the spring to midsummer when the plant
is actively growing. The cutting doesn't really have to be
a certain size. The most important thing is leaf nodes
(roots form here). Cut a 2-6 inch piece just below a leaf
and remove all but 2 or 3 leaves at the top. If desired,
dip in a rooting hormone, then insert the cutting into a
container of either water or potting soil and watch it grow.
There is no way to cover all plant rooting in one article.
Just too many different methods. You can do stem
cuttings, leaf cuttings, root cuttings and even a lazy
man's way called layering. Next month we may look at
the methods and best times for different cuttings:
softwood, semi-ripe, and hardwood. There have been
books after books written on propagating plants but the
easiest is just a glass of water.
Plant a tree!
6

7

Emily
Wilson
It has long been said that absence makes the heart
grow fonder. After the last month with so many of us
working remotely and many of our favorite businesses
closed or restricted from their normal activities, we are
all longing to get back to normal. We want to find ourselves
back in our favorite places and near familiar
faces.
For our local businesses here in Atmore, the
COVID-19 pandemic has created a crisis, but through
these challenges, our business community is showing
its resilience. Together, we all can find ways to be
stronger than ever before.
If all the bad news and uncertainty is wearing you out,
here is a positive thought to focus on: Without a doubt
those of us who so passionately believe in the
power of community are being proven right. On a
national level, it may look like we are falling apart, but
we need to remember that our strength has always
manifested on the local level. I've said it before and I'll
say it once more: Locally is where America is at its best.
My time in Atmore has given me the great gift of
getting to know our leaders and citizens. And I've come
to see that Atmore is made of incredibly strong stuff.
We're innovative and resourceful. We're connected,
caring, and compassionate.
Even in the face of challenges, we're optimists at heart.
And that's why I feel this is our time to shine.
Communities like Atmore will be the saving grace in
a nation wracked by the coronavirus and (moreover)
the fear of the coronavirus. I believe this with everything
in me. And in the same way people are catching the
“panic” bug, can't we also catch the “help each other”
bug? I believe we can – and I believe it will start on a
community level.
I want to emphasize that we will get out of this, we'll
come back stronger. Normalcy will return to our
community. In the days ahead as we all begin to recover
and Atmore comes back to life, I believe we all need to
remember the following:
Remember that localism matters
Locally is where leaders in all sectors can make the
most difference. It's where we need to concentrate our
best thinking and our best efforts. People throughout
the Atmore area had the proverbial rug pulled out from
under them in every arena: business, work, financial,
family, and personal life. We can all help to put our
community back on the right track by shopping and
living local in the days ahead.
Chamber Notes
8
Look after our neighbors in need
Community groups and members throughout Atmore
have done an amazing job of helping their neighbors
but the work is not done. We must continue to identify
those in need and figure out ways to help. Think elderly,
sick and housebound people, those who live in underprivileged
areas, small children without access to food.
Activate the “can-do” attitude in our community
Celebrate small wins. Make a big deal out of them.
We really need something positive to think and talk
about right now. With enough small wins, we can all be
part of starting to create momentum. Also, focus on
resilience. Remember that as bad as things are right
now, Atmore is strong enough to get through this crisis.
The days ahead can essentially be thought of like an
old-fashioned barn raising. We need to come together
to provide help where and when it is needed. It's up to
us to help our community recover. Above all, remember
that the hard times won't last forever. When we get
intentional about doing what we can to strengthen and
build up our community, we're doing more than surviving.
We're setting the stage for renewed growth and
revitalization once this pandemic dies down (and it will).
One day in the not-too-distant future, we will find we
made it through the tough times and came out on the
other side stronger, better, and closer than ever.
Emily Wilson, CHSO, is Executive Director,
Atmore Area Chamber of Commerce.

But God
The Gift of Lament
by DAVE LANDIS
Dave
Landis
Virus Spreading.
People Dying.
Families Mourning.
Fear Rising.
Streets Quieting.
Stores Closing.
Schools Adjusting.
Churches Streaming.
Sports Reeling.
Events Cancelling.
Airlines Parking.
Stocks Plummeting.
Leaders Dividing.
Industries Re-calibrating.
Highways Emptying.
Communities Uniting.
Doctors Striving.
Nurses Self-Denying.
Families Hurting.
Children Wondering.
Life.
It's at a standstill.
But.
God.
He knows.
He Allows.
He Cares.
He Loves.
He Hears.
He Shields.
He Provides.
He Answers.
He Redeems.
He Empowers.
He Comforts.
He Heals.
He Calls.
He Invites.
He Saves.
He Transforms.
He's Directing.
He's Preparing.
He's Waiting.
He's Coming.
“For God alone, O my
soul, wait in silence, for
my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and
my salvation, my fortress;
I shall not be shaken. On
God rests my salvation
and my glory; my mighty
rock, my refuge is God.
Trust in him at all times,
O people; pour out your
heart before him; God
is a refuge for us.” Selah
Psalm 62:5-8
I am afraid that there is something under the surface of
our growing optimism that is begging to be dealt with.
It's there, but most of us have no idea what to do with
it. We search and we scramble. We indulge and we
investigate. But the "feeling" doesn't go away.
No one would argue that over the last month we have
accumulated an untold number of losses.
Our bank accounts have dwindled.
Graduations cancelled. Sanctuaries shuttered.
Businesses on life support.
Our hospital patients are un-visited.
Elder homes under lock-down. Prisons in a panic.
Children left to wonder.
Our brides are crying. Mourners secluded. Games
cancelled. Summer vacations in question.
Not to mention death and sickness rampant.
For some, these losses can be devastating. Others less
impactful. Still others, a shaking fist and a scowl.
But all are grieving whether they want to realize it or not.
Yes, grieving. When the tears come, but no idea where
they came from.
So Lord, I'm wondering. What now? What next?
On my better days I look forward with skeptical hope.
We might come out of this better than we had been.
In between there are moments of unexpected despair.
Life will never be the same.
How do we take this lurking pain and bring it, raw and
unsure as it may be, into Your Presence?
I'm not sure on the how. I'm not sure on the when. But
I am sure of one thing. You want us to bring it. To say it.
To acknowledge it. To cry it. To shout it. To whisper it.
To leave it.
At. Your. Feet.
And when we do. When we surrender. When we lay our
burdens down, then You begin Your beautiful work. You
take what we don't know what to do with and craft
something that You can work with.
And before we know it what was hurting is now healing.
What was uncertain is now clearing, and what was lost
is now found.
And we have discovered a most beautiful gift. The gift
of Your friendship. The gift of Your presence. The Gift
of Your comfort.
But it begins with lament.
May we bring all that we are not into all that You have
been. And in that bringing may we find strength for
another day.
Amen.
And Amen.
9

Class pictures
shared by
Doris Van Pelt
10

Like Clockwork
Tiffany Hobbs wrote this for her students at Escambia
County Middle School.
Tiffany
Hobbs
My alarm didn't sound this morning because I had
no place to go.
Regardless, my brain woke me because, like clockwork,
it told me so.
My sheets flew up; my feet hit the floor. Like clockwork,
I reached for my phone.
I checked my emails while my coffee brewed, like
clockwork, in the quiet kitchen I stood alone.
I thought about my students – like clockwork, it's what
I do.
How they bring so much joy to my life. Like clockwork,
I said a prayer or two.
I prayed for His guidance. Then, like clockwork,
I prayed for you.
While I gathered my thoughts and planned my day,
sadness quickly consumed my heart.
I remembered your beautiful smiles and handsome grins.
Like clockwork, that was just the start.
I longed to hear you call my name,
and I wished I could hear your laughter.
I'd give anything to answer your question and
a million more thereafter.
My babies, I want you to know one thing – I miss you
more than words could say.
Always remember, like clockwork, I love you every day.
by SHERRY DIGMON
About the Cover
The stay at home order has given many folks
a chance to take a little extra time to pursue an
interest. Like photography. Or studying nature. Or
bird watching.
Such has been the case with Bryan Keel. He
sent Myrna a number of pictures he shot in his yard.
We selected a few and Ditto created the cover on
this month’s issue.
I’m sure others of you have started a new hobby
or are fine-tuning something you’ve been doing a
while. We’ve certainly had time for such.
Thanks to Bryan for the pictures.
Books by Kevin McKinley
Kevin McKinley is always so generous to share his
research with us. He digs up some stuff that some of
us have never ever heard of even though we’ve lived
here most of our lives.
Kevin has two books available now.
The Butler Street Chronicles contains selected
histories of the communities surrounding Butler Street
and includes information on settlers at Steadham, Pond
Fork, Sizemore, Sardine, Butler Street, Hollinger and
other communities along this route. Pick up your copy
for $15. Copies can be purchased from the author or at
Amazon.com or Lulu.com.
Shadows and Dust: Volume III: Legacies is available
for purchase for $30 plus $5 shipping and handling.
The address is PO Box 579, Atmore AL 36504. Or
you may buy the book online at Amazon.com;
LuluPublishing.com; or Barnesandnoble.com. The
book is also available at the Monroe County Heritage
Museum in Monroeville, Alabama. Or you may call
251-294-0293
11

In His Father's Footsteps
Chris Pruitt, Travis Pruitt
Don
Fletcher
When Travis Pruitt was growing up in Atmore, he
dreamed of becoming a soldier, just like his dad. He
dreamed, too, of becoming a policeman, also just like
his dad. Now that Travis has grown up, he's been able
to realize both dreams.
The younger Pruitt is currently in the early stages of a
three-year Alabama Army National Guard deployment.
When the citizen soldier was activated, it forced him to
vacate, at least temporarily, his job as an Atmore Police
Department patrol officer.
His father, Chris, was soldiering overseas as a military
policeman when Travis was born in a Stuttgart, Germany
Army hospital. When Chris’ enlistment ended, he and
wife Erica (nee Crenshaw) — who were high school
sweethearts at Escambia County High School before
he began his military service and she became an Army
wife — brought their only child back to grow up in the
same town in which they had.
When the couple got back to Atmore, their son soon
developed a craving to wear a uniform other than just
the one his dad wore as a military law enforcement
officer. The toddler acquired a desire to one day wear
the blue uniform of the Atmore Police Department, the
uniform his dad wore to work every day.
“My dad has always been my hero and an example of
a man to follow,” Travis said of Chris, whose career as a
city patrol officer was almost ended barely two years
after it started. “He was a military police officer, then a
civilian police officer, so I was pretty much raised up in
law enforcement. I always wanted to be just like him —
to be in the Army and to be a cop.”
The elder component of the father-son combination
said he had no doubt through the years that Travis
would be a police officer, and probably a military man,
and that he would be successful at both.
“To say that I am proud of Travis is an understatement,”
Chris said. “It was no surprise when he expressed a
desire to serve his country and his city. I thank God that
Travis has become the man he is. He will be successful
at all he does, provided he does what he knows is right.”
As a young man, Chris Pruitt fell deeply enough in
love with policing that he volunteered to wash police
cars just to be around cops. He worked part-time as a
police dispatcher and turned his duties there into a Boy
Scouts project for which he gained the rank of Eagle
Scout.
“It was like having a bunch of daddies,” he said. “They
taught me how to dispatch and got me a part-time job
that turned into full-time. That's how I started, and that's
what I wanted to come home to when I got out (of the
Army).”
Years later, Chris was in his second year of patrolling
Atmore's streets, and things were going well until a
fateful February1997 call to the intersection of East
Nashville Avenue and Presley Street.
“I had exited my vehicle at a three-vehicle traffic
accident and had been out of my car for about 30
12

seconds,” he recalled, “when a van traveling
approximately 65 mph struck me.”
According to reports, the collision knocked the officer
“about 36 feet into the air.” He landed on pavement and
spent 11 days in the hospital with a pelvis that was
broken in three places, a concussion, a fractured spine
and numerous bruises, bumps and cuts. Doctors also
had to dig out Pruitt's pocketknife, which had been
forced through his pocket and was imbedded about four
inches deep into his thigh.
An uphill climb followed, but Chris was back on his
feet in a relatively short time. “I was released from the
hospital and was in a wheelchair for six months,” he
remembered. “After the six-month mark I came back
and worked patrol while also being a reserve officer for
the drug task force.”
He was a K9 handler for the final 16 months of his
APD career, after which he served a 14-year tenure
as Atmore Municipal Court Clerk. He is now retired
from public service and serves as pastor of Lottie
Baptist Church.
Travis worked four years as an Atmore firefighter
before he was hired by APD Chief Chuck Brooks in
2017. He graduated from the Alabama Peace Officer
Training School in Selma in April 2018 and literally
began following his father's footsteps at that time.
No surprise, Chris and his fireman son discovered
they also shared another connection.
“There was one conversation that we had, where
I asked him if he had ever thought about being a fireman,
and he decided to give it a try,” the senior Pruitt
explained. “Believe it or not, while I was a (police)
dispatcher, I started volunteering with the fire department.
In those days they had to leave a man at the
station to cover the phones when they got a call, so
I would fill in. They eventually let me start going with
them on fire calls.”
Travis is married to Elizabeth Bonnell Pruitt, formerly
of Daphne, and they have a daughter, Madison, who is
4. He is excited about the opportunity afforded him by
his sergeant's rank and National Guard recruiter and
retention duties but is chomping at the bit to get back
on patrol. He knows, though, it will be about two more
years before that happens.
“During a field training exercise … I was offered a
unique opportunity to be active duty in the Guard as
a recruiter,” he said. “I …was placed on active duty
orders, at which point I had to hang up the badge and
gun temporarily. Atmore Police has my job frozen for
when I return off orders, as long as (the city of) Atmore
helps me keep my certification.”
Chris said he tried to instill in his son a strong love for
the law and a strong understanding that his name and
reputation would be the biggest assets he could ever
bank on. He is thrilled, he said, that his only son decided
to follow a career trail similar to the one on which he
himself embarked 25 years ago.
“It's an honor to serve in any capacity,” he said. “It is
an extra honor to serve the people you personally know.
It gives me a little extra bit of pride to know that Travis
is serving in the community he grew up in.”
He added that not everyone would become a fan of
the lessons he firmly implanted in the young police
officer's mind during his growth into an adult.
“One of the things about Travis is that there is no
in-between; it's either right or wrong,” Chris said. “That
sometimes rubs some people the wrong way, but it will
help you sleep better if you live like that.”
Left, Chris Pruitt in the Army.
At right, a young Travis Pruitt in uniform
13

Kevin
McKinley
Sawmills during the age of the “Big Cut” could be wild
places. A sea of humanity ebbed and flowed through the
mills. Laborers, foremen, businessmen and suppliers all
created unique personalities inside this great ocean of
industry which was dotted with small archipelagos of
plainer mills, ripping saws and other industrial apparatus
stations dotting the landscape.
These were places where men earned an honest day’s
wage. It was hot work in the summer and cold work in
the winter; and it was dangerous work. Stories abound
of men injured and killed in the various mills of the area.
A newlywed by the name of Reaves had his arm badly
mangled at the Peavy mill, he later died. Likewise, a
group of laborers at the Carney Mill were injured when
a stray piece of wood broke loose from a saw, flew into
their group and injured three men in one incident.
Yet few incidents were as macabre as an incident
Tales From the Carney Mill
involving a severed leg that stirred the entire town of
Atmore to fear and search for its owner. It is here that
our story begins in the early morning hours of a
September day in 1915 when a fireman came down
to the mill and fired the furnace for the day's operation.
About 9 a.m., he attracted the attention of another
fireman who saw him running towards Main Street at
a sprint. It was learned that while pulling slabs from the
slab pit, he had discovered a man's foot and leg. In those
days, the slab pit was a place where workers threw out
waste slabs of wood and locals disposed of dead
chickens and other waste, presumably to be incinerated
by the mill as part of its industrial operations.
The presence of the unidentified leg created quite a
commotion. The news spread like wild fire; the mill's
whistle screamed at the presumed tragedy that a worker
may have fallen into a saw or otherwise been accidentally
chopped up and disposed in the slab pit.
The foreman of the mill was instructed to close the mill
and conduct an immediate roll call of workers. Residents
of Atmore rushed to the mill to check the condition of
their family members who worked there.
Finally, the truth of the severed leg was learned. Near
the mill stood Atmore's first hospital, Baggett Infirmary.
Dr. E.N. Sellers was responsible for the establishment
of this hospital. On an early September's night, a patient
was presented to the infirmary showing the serious
.
14

condition of gangrene. In a life-saving surgery, Dr.
Sellers amputated the man's leg. Following the surgery,
and late into the night, Dr. Sellers walked the severed
leg down to the old Carney mill and pitched it into the
slab pit and thereby the good doctor had a leg up on the
fear-driven rumor about the leg found at the mill.
Carney Mill stretched from North Main Street to the current Medical Park Drive.
15

16

17

18
Atmore
Strong -
in the
fence at
First
Baptist
Church

CONFIDENT IN HIM
I am confident in You, Lord Jesus
in this our hour of need.
Your promises are true and faithful
and that is what we will heed.
The noise of this world is distracting us
and there are many who are afraid,
But we who believe in You will stand
for You promised us Your aid.
So with Thanksgiving may we seek You,
knowing You will hear our cry.
For we serve a living and loving God,
our needs He will supply!
© 2020 Karen Langford Brown
www.myspiritwind.com
"The LORD himself goes before you
and will be with you; he will never leave you
nor forsake you. Do not be afraid;
do not be discouraged."
Deuteronomy 31:8
19

ECHS Basketball
Curtis
Parker
Thanks to Rodney Powell for the old picture of the
basketball team. It triggered some memories. That
must have been the first team at Escambia County
High School, after a long period of not having one.
The probable reason was that they couldn't afford to
pay a coach, same as it was when Herbert Barnes
taught agriculture and doubled as the football coach,
for free.
Mr. “Hodo” Hunter was a history teacher and assisted
in coaching all sports. But he was more famous (to me)
for lecturing to his class with a cigarette hanging from
his bottom lip until it was burned up, without taking a
puff.
Mr. Moon taught Civics and coached also.
Mr. Penny came along later as a math teacher and
took over the basketball coaching job. He also doubled
as the bus driver - much to the fright of everyone. We
often heard the horn of an approaching car, warning
Mr. Penny to get back on his side of the road. Then there
was the problem with the headlights going off suddenly
due to an over-heated fuse. If my Dad had not told me
how to remedy that problem with a piece of copper
tubing, we might have become part of a sad history.
Being from a trucking family, the sound of grinding
gears always made my skin crawl - and Coach Penny
was no double clutcher.
I had been drafted, about that time, to the basketball
manager job, but it was not to keep up with the basketballs
(we only had four). More likely, it was to stoke the
coal-fired stove that provided the hot water for showers.
Blue Devil teams in those days featured such stalwart
players as “Buddy” Tennant who was taller than everyone
but had to wear a harness to keep from raising his
right arm over his head and throwing out his bad
shoulder.
We also had the Hadley twins, affectionately called
“Little Boy” and “Big Boy,” but most of us couldn't tell
who was “Big” and who was “Little.” Sixty years later,
I still couldn't tell the difference.
Our star player was “Hoe-handle” Akins, who had to
be driven home to Booneville after the games. Twelve
miles of dirt road (but that's another story).
Then there was “Hog-eye” Hendrix who got furious
when hit by a blind-side pass. Although it was obvious,
he made sure that everyone knew which eye was glass.
“Dobbin” was the nickname for Robin White.
Everyone was called by their nickname. One center
was called “Icabod,” because he looked like a character
pictured in “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” from our
English text.
The other center was called “Bubba Bean,” after a
character in the Lil Abner comic strip. I can almost hear
the players screaming for a pass, “Big”—“Little”—“Hog”—
“Hoe”—“Bean”—and “Icabod.” Those nicknames never
left them.
Those Atmore teams never amassed any win-loss
records to brag about, but the other teams must have
dreaded seeing them take the court.
Dedication was certainly required to play basketball
in those days. You really had to be dedicated to remove
and stack 200 folding chairs from the auditorium (study
hall) floor every afternoon, and set them back up after
practice. It took teamwork.
For the games, there was barely enough room to
squeeze in four rows of those folding chairs on each
side of the court. Anyone brave enough to sit in the
front row had better be prepared to have their feet
stomped or for a sweaty body to come crashing, now
and again.
The big coal heaters in opposite corners of the
auditorium were too dangerous for use during basketball
games. But, with so many people jammed into the
room, like sardines, no heat was needed. A few of the
huge windows were opened and students flowed freely
in and out. Players were always crashing into the solid
wall only a few feet behind one goal, and the stage was
20

close behind the other. James Norris broke his leg on
that stage during a game.
I must not forget to mention that a junior basketball
team was also formed at ECHS. Of course they
modeled themselves after the varsity team - right down
to using nicknames.
There was “Jay-hair”—“Mason-ears”—“Wilson-eyes,”—
“Bird-legs,” etc. (It was all about body parts, it now
seems). So, they naturally screamed, “Hair”—“Ears”—
“Eyes,” and “Legs.” (No - I'm not making this up.)
It was never about winning or losing with those guys.
They were there to clown around and have fun - let
there be no doubt.
Games were scheduled with Bratt, Fla. who also had
a junior team. But there was a problem with Bratt's
unusual basketball court. It was long and narrow, poorly
lit, and had a low, wooden ceiling. It wasn't called the
“Cracker Box” for nothing. The worst part was their
house rules made it legal to bounce the ball off that low
ceiling, which could hardly be avoided. But the Bratt
players mastered the technique and used it to their
advantage. It was maddening for all their opponents.
And yes, we even had a girls basketball team back in
the day. My sister, Augusta, was in the team picture
that “atmore” magazine ran a few months back. Not all
the parents were thrilled about the prospect, but it can
never be said that they dressed too scantily. The girls
did not, however, adopt the nickname tradition. They
just ran around hollering “hey,” all the time.
High school athletics in those days were intended to
be wholesome, character building, and fun. I believe
they were.
.
The 1947-48 team - from left, front, Carlos McGlothern, forward; Winston White, guard; Charles Madison, guard;
Harold Barnes, guard; back, Coach Everette C. Hodo Hunter, Captain Carl Madison, forward; Bobby Steele, center;
_____ Slay, forward. Carl and Charles Madison, Barnes and Slay were first string. McGlothern and White were
second string.
21

Living Through World War II
Nancy
Karrick
Note: This is the first in a series of three articles.
I was born in 1947, after World War II. I never studied
about either World War I or II in school, so the only
information I knew was what I heard from my parents or
gleaned from books from the library.
As an adult, I had the opportunity to live in Europe
and Hawaii, and my knowledge of those war years was
greatly enhanced by my experiences and travels there.
Plus, as the wife of a career military man, I had the
opportunity to visit many of the World War II sites, again,
learning what school failed to teach me. Believe it or not,
but I learned as much as a school teacher, self teaching
myself, so I could teach students, as many learn in
school today.
I lived in Belgium and made many trips to Bastogne
and the area of the Battle of the Bulge. I was in
Luxembourg City and saw Patton's grave, traveled to
Auschwitz and saw the horrors of the death camp,
entered Hitler's Eagle's Nest, and walked across the
beaches at Normandy.
American military cemeteries were always on our
stop-and-visit list, including the National Memorial
Cemetery of the Pacific at Punchbowl in Hawaii, where
I observed the grave of reporter Ernie Pyle, and the
only American underwater military cemetery, the USS
Arizona. With all of this said, I did not live through World
War II. However, in a way I did. Keep reading to find out
how.
Over a year ago, my neighbor, Andy Anderson,
brought over a box of newspapers he had found in a
closet at his grandparents’ home, knowing I would be
interested in them. I was excited when I saw what was
inside, but put them aside until I had some spare time
to spend reading the enclosed newspapers. These
papers were old, and not just a year old, but from 1945.
They were yellowed and brittle, flaking each time they
were unfolded or opened out, and to my history-loving
mind, they were a wonderful treasure chest.
The coronavirus gave me the perfect opportunity to
immerse myself in primary source material and read to
my heart's content about not only the war, but about life
on the home front as well. I'm not going into the war as
22

much as the latter topic, which I found to be fascinating.
Come along into days long gone by and enrich your
education in a much more interesting way than from a
textbook.
Since I mentioned visiting Ernie Pyle's grave in the
first paragraph, let's start with him. Pyle was a newspaper
correspondent who covered the war in Europe
and then went to the Pacific to do the same there. He
wrote in a folksy style and almost exclusively about the
ordinary soldier and the situations he was facing, rather
than about military actions. He figured mommas back
home would want to know what living conditions were
like for their son more than how many bombs were
dropped on Berlin, and he was right. He even won a
Pulitzer Prize in 1944 for his columns. Those parents
knew when a soldier received a goodie box from home
and how they reacted to its contents, when they needed
more letters to keep up morale, and what the weather
was like in Europe. Pyle gave them this information.
Ten days before his death, in an article in the April 8,
1945 Mobile paper, Pyle wrote about a water landing
on an island in the Pacific. Read some of what he wrote
and get a glimpse of his style: “The morning was warm
and sunshiny, yet they had all gotten very cold, just from
being wet. Some of them got the cold shakes and
couldn't stop. They joked with each other about quaking
with fear, instead of cold.”
And while they were still on the boats, going toward
the island, obviously scared, Pyle wrote, “People get
awfully thirsty as they approach a beachhead. The
canteen went around. When it came to me I took a big
gulp, and almost croked [sic]. For it wasn't water at all,
but straight brandy! We crossed a coral reef. It was a
good crossing. The waters were smooth and there
were no rollers on the reef. The gods were good to us
on that invasion day.”
Pyle was shot by a Japanese sniper in Okinawa on
April 18, 1945, and was buried near the site. In 1949,
his body was moved to the national cemetery in
Honolulu known as Punchbowl to many.
Reading through any newspaper, it is always
interesting to check out styles and prices of items. In
August 1945, Hammels Department Store was selling
ladies’ dresses for $4.00 and Saddle Oxfords for $2.95.
At the bottom of the page was an ad for nylons and
girdles. A store which I don't remember was Harry's,
but they must have been quite large and prosperous
since they had full page ads several times a week.
Their Dauphin Street store advertised men's straw
hats for $1.00, while Sears Roebuck had ladies hats for
$1.98. Hats like these are definitely a thing of the past,
but back in the day, they were the height of fashion, as
were crinoline slips, gloves, and head scarves, all of
which would have been worn on a shopping trip to
downtown Mobile.
Gayfers - and don't we miss that wonderful store? -
offered permanent waves for $8.50 in their hair salon,
while Van Antwerp's had a set of nail enamel and
lipstick for $1.75 plus tax.
On August 4, 1945, Grant’s had over a quarter page
ad advertising clothes for the doll of the house. This ad
had the appearance of an adult or child's clothing page,
23

with the pictures drawn only a bit smaller. Any little girl would have been excited and pleased to go to Grant's and pick
out an outfit for her doll, at prices significantly lower than those for today's American Girl dolls, 75 cents versus $25.00
today.
Adam Glass advertised to have the best furniture in Mobile, Damrich advertised their lovely shoes for women, and
Dagwood was up to his old tricks of taking naps on the sofa and hiding in the bathtub. Daisy looked the same, but
Cookie and Alexander were definitely a little younger.
The news we would have been interested in was that
Delchamps had Northern tissue 4 for 25 cents! Of
course, we need to remember that salaries were much
lower than those of today.
The Home page included recipes for meat loaf with
tomato jam sauce and easy ways to fix root vegetables.
The tomato sauce was probably made with tomatoes
the homemaker had canned herself after they were
picked from her garden.
The process of cooking was definitely more
challenging for women during the war than today.
Imagine no dishwasher, food processor, or microwave.
You learn to make do with what you have, and our
mothers and grandmothers did just that. Some of my
favorite recipes are some my mother used during
World War II.
24

The Business of the King
Rev.
Walter
Albritton
One of my great delights in life is to find a poem that
stirs my soul. I have stored several in my memory bank.
When boredom comes calling, I don't need an energy
drink to rejuvenate my mind and body. A little poem
packed with truth restores my enthusiasm for life.
I want to share one of those treasures with you and
apply its power to the coronavirus problems we all face.
Get ready for a blessing! Here it is:
Life can never be dull again
Once we've thrown our windows open wide
And whispered to ourselves this wondrous thing,
We are wanted for the business of the King!
The isolation made necessary by COVID-19 has
been exasperating. We are tired of being stuck at home,
weary of waiting for businesses to reopen. Some of us
have the advantage of sharing the frustration with a
spouse. Others of us are alone which must make the
seclusion even more difficult. We do find some relief
from boredom when a family member or a friend drops
by with food or medicine, always standing 10 feet away.
But whether you live in Germany, South America or
Alabama, you are pleading for deliverance from this
isolation curse.
Though I struggle like everyone else with being
homebound, I realize it is necessary for my own safety
and that of my family and friends. To ignore the CDC
health guidelines would be foolish. We can find a way
to recover from the collapse of our economy but there
is no recovery from death. So for whatever time is
necessary, we all need to do what our health experts
recommend. Social distancing may be aggravating but
it could save your life or the life of a loved one.
I find some comfort in remembering that our isolation
is nothing compared to the isolation of thousands of
death-row inmates in our prisons. Most of them are
isolated in a small cell with no windows for 23 hours
a day. And the sad reality is that a few of them are
innocent, awaiting execution for a crime they did not
commit. If you doubt that, I suggest you read the eyeopening
book Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson.
The best medicine I have found for the monotony
of isolation is to celebrate the truth of my little power
poem. Life's dullness is overpowered by the “wondrous”
truth that “we are wanted for the business of the King.”
There is more to life than birth, work, retirement and
death. Nothing could be duller than to grow up, earn
enough money to buy a pile of stuff, guard it for a while,
then die and be buried in a shallow grave – and never
experience the thrill of knowing and serving the King,
whose name is Jesus!
The unseen world is more “real” than the world we
can see and touch. That unseen world is the Kingdom
of God. God sent His son Jesus into the physical world
to reveal to us the invisible Kingdom. During his earthly
ministry Jesus invited us to live in the Kingdom and to
serve Him for He is the King of the Kingdom. Today, as
the living Christ, He invites us to accept his invitation to
work with Him in “the business of the King.” Few things
thrill my soul more than the amazing thought that God
“wants me” for the business of His Son! And while my
role is that of a pastor, that is but one of a thousand
ways one may serve King Jesus. Men and women in
almost every profession may engage in the King's
business!
What is this business? It is to share the good news
of God's love. John said it perfectly: “God so loved the
world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever
believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”
(3:16). Millions of people still do not know that Jesus
died for their sins, that their sins were forgiven when
Jesus was nailed to that cruel cross, and that by
surrendering to Jesus, and living in the Kingdom, they
may begin living the eternal life that stretches beyond
the grave!
Continued on page 28
25

Women’s Aglow
by SHERRY DIGMON
A while back, I wrote about finding a real treasure at a thrift shop
in Baldwin County. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and read
this inscription:
Sept. 1988
To Gayle
Our Vice President
Our Friend
Our Sister in Christ
For your inspiration
Your Encouragement
and Your Faithfulness
We love you
Women’s Aglow of Atmore
On the opposite page are 13 members’ signatures. Some are
deceased. Some still live here. Names included Martie (?) Long,
Evelyn, Carolyn, Sue Maddox, Mazie Weaver, Jane Rogers,
Jackie Brown, Marion Bedford, Mary Stallworth, Dolores Oden,
Anne Wells, Lucille Albritton, and Dot Albritton.
When I started in the newspaper business in the early 1990s,
I remember covering some of the Women’s Aglow meetings. At some point, the group disbanded.
In that article, I put out a call for anyone who was in Women’s Aglow at the time or had any knowledge of it to get
in touch with me. Well, sure enough, Carolyn Morris got in touch. I thought I remembered that she was in the
organization, but I had not reached out to her.
Carolyn shares her memories of Women’s Aglow - and a picture of the officers one year - on the next page.
26

Carolyn Morris:
As far as I can recall the organization’s history, the
Atmore Chapter of Women’s Aglow started in 1903 or
1904. I heard about the ministry through the bookstore
I ran in the 1980s. I came in contact with many women
being touched by the move of God entitled The
Charismatic Movement or whatever name you tack on
it.
I heard of Women’s Aglow and their Mission
Statement; it seemed to be a Ministry to help fulfill a
void.
Mission Statement: Our Mission is to lead women to
Jesus Christ and to provide opportunity for Christian
women to grow in their faith and to minister to others.
That was the beginning for the Atmore Chapter. We
elected a Board consisting of president, vice president,
treasurer and secretary and began meeting and praying
for wisdom and guidance. We came under the leadership
of not only the State Board in Mobile but also the
Regional and National Board. This was comforting to
know we were not lone sheep without guidance.
Locally we met once a month for Prayer, Praise and
Worship, with a gifted speaker and a fellowship meal.
We also attended State which was once a year,
Regional once every two years and National every three
years.
Those meetings of Unity in the Lord are etched in my
memory as I trust they are for the thousands of others,
and although there is no longer an Atmore Chapter, the
Ministry is still alive and well. It is now Universal and
includes men. The Lord has richly blessed me in the
Women’s Aglow officers, clockwise from bottom left,
Carolyn Morris, president; Ann Wells, secretary;
Dolores Oden, treasurer; Evelyn McKinley, vice president.
walk with Him and continues to guide me daily toward
my Heavenly Home.
After Women’s Aglow, my next venture, the Lord led
me to open The Hospitality House.
What’s your next venture?
27

The Staff Report
Continued from page 5
Inside the new freezer
Some people, especially the elderly and those with
health conditions, will continue to remain at home.
Please share the following information with senior
Walter Albritton
Continued from page 25
The business of the King is to make Jesus known
and loved. It is to witness to the ways our lives have
been changed, and are being changed, by the
transforming power of the living Christ. It is to help
people see that the true meaning of life is not found in
eating, drinking and playing around but in finding ways
to love people into the Kingdom of God. It is to help
others discover that meaning and joy are found in loving
God and loving our neighbors as we love ourselves.
Must we wallow in dullness and frustration because
we are sheltered in our homes for a time? No!
A thousand times No! We can grow our faith forward
by reading and studying God's Word. We can spend
time in intercessory prayer, lifting up the sick, praying
for our heroes who are on the front lines of service. We
citizens you know and love from MEDICARE.GOV.
Managing stress during COVID-19
More than ever, it's important to stay home to slow the
spread of COVID-19, and if you must go out, practice
social distancing. While we stay home, don't let fear and
anxiety about the COVID-19 pandemic become overwhelming.
Here are a few ways the CDC recommends
managing stress during these challenging times:
• Take breaks from watching, reading, or listening to
news stories and social media.
• Connect with others. Talk with friends and loved ones
over the phone or via video chat about your concerns
and how you are feeling.
• Take care of yourself. Take deep breaths, stretch, or
meditate. Try to eat healthy meals, exercise regularly,
and get plenty of sleep.
Remember: If you need to see your doctor, please call
them first. Medicare has expanded their ability to use
telehealth services during the COVID-19 emergency for
common office visits, mental health counseling, and
preventive health screenings.
In closing, please continue to stay safe. Like us on
Facebook (City of Atmore Mayor's Office) and visit our
official website www.cityofatmore.com
Thank you, Atmore.
BE A FOUNTAIN, NOT A DRAIN.
can encourage others with phone calls, cards, letters
and gifts of food and flowers. We can find creative ways
to make our love known to family and friends. We can
pray for a worldwide spiritual awakening. We are not
helpless because we are isolated. We can be about
the business of the King!
Now repeat that little poem 10 times until you have
memorized it. Then, the next time dullness comes
calling, celebrate the truth that you are wanted for the
business of the King! Say it to yourself: “I am wanted
for the business of the King!” You are – so get busy!
Life will be sweeter no matter how long our seclusion
lasts!
The Rev. Walter Albritton is Pastor of Congregational
Care at St. James United Methodist Church in
Montgomery.
28

Lighting Up Exit 57
by SHERRY DIGMON
Ask Mayor Jim Staff how long it has taken the city
to get lighting at the Highway 21 exit at I65. It has
taken years. But finally ... the work of the city with some
help by the Poarch Creek Indians paid off March 31 when
the mayor threw the switch and our interchange was lit
up like the others up and down the interstate.
Our Ditto Gorme was there to capture the moment.
Mayor Jim Staff flips the switch.
At right is Danny Clark with
Webster Electric Co., Meridian, Miss.
From left, Tim Ramer with Poarch
Creek Indians, Mayor Jim Staff,
Danny Clark with Webster Electric,
and City Councilman Jerome Webster.
29

Precious Memories
March 16, 2020 - April 15, 2020
Clyde Albert Bristow Sr.
September 28, 1941 – March 16, 2020
George Winston Foster Sr.
May 22, 1943 – March 16, 2020
Tommie Eugene Milstid
February 17, 1933 – March 16, 2020
Sue Amos Beck
March 29, 1943 – March 17, 2020
Eunice Elaine Davis
June 8, 1942 – March 19, 2020
Helena Hill
– March 19, 2020
Lena Mae McCall
May 10, 1951 – March 19, 2020
Linda Darlene Pugh Johnson
August 11, 1959 – March 20, 2020
Dorothy “Dot” Nettles
January 18, 1961 – March 20, 2020
Ted Presley
March 2, 1938 – March 20, 2020
Climmie Lindsey Johnson
September 28, 1923 – March 21. 2020
Annette Lee
June 6, 1955 – March 21, 2020
Edna "Skippy" Miller
January 12, 1947 – March 23, 2020
Verdell Montgomery Malone
September 15, 1959 – March 25, 2020
Bennie C. Presley, Sr.
April 29, 1939 – March 25, 2020
Kenneth Richard Maddox
January 4, 1978 – March 27, 2020
Calvin Coolidge Turberville
October 7, 1923 – March 27, 2020
Sylvia Paulette Hadley
February 4, 1948 – March 28, 2020
Opal Maxine Gibson
September 14, 1942 – March 30, 2020
John David Norris
July 17, 1942 – March 30, 2020
Mona Causey Jones
June 25, 1935 – March 31, 2020
Jeraldean Reed
October 8, 1946 – March 31, 2020
Mitzi Trent Fitzpatrick
November 9 1937 – April 3, 2020
Brian Chess Helton
February 3, 1981 – April 3, 2020
Constance "Connie" Hartzog
November 23, 1939 – April 5, 2020
Alexandra DeShay Owens (Maye)
September 28, 1993 – April 5, 2020
Lisa Donald Parnell
February 26, 1962 – April 6, 2020
Alger Dale McGhee
March 27, 1961 – April 7, 2020
Elsie Marie Albritton Baggett
June 7, 1936 – April 8, 2020
Wallace Brown
December 26, 1933 – April 10, 2020
Jeremiah Lewis Talmage
January 19, 1981 – April 12, 2020
Patrick DuWayne Hadley II
February 22, 1994 – April 13, 2020
Mildred Walker Hanson
March 4, 1931 – April 14, 2020
“The bitterest tears shed
over graves are for words
left unsaid and deeds left undone.”
Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811 - 1896)
Obituary information provided by Atmore Memorial Chapel; Christian Memorial Funeral Home;
Johnson-Quimby Funeral Home; Mayberry Funeral Home;
Petty Eastside Chapel; Turner Funeral Chapel.
Out of town funeral homes: Hughes Funeral Home, Daphne, Ala.;
Johns-Ridout's Mortuary-Elmwood, Birmingham, Ala.;
Wolfe Bayview Funeral Home, Foley, Ala.
30